


Armory in Harmony

by WalkTheTyrannosaur



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, In-character disrespect for mental trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 17:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19114327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkTheTyrannosaur/pseuds/WalkTheTyrannosaur
Summary: Brawl has lost his favorite weapon, and Onslaught is determined to replace it for him. But doing so might be a fair bit more complicated than initially believed.





	Armory in Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> This story was done by commission for Sunny Rainstorm. It takes place an indeterminate amount of time before the primary events of the IDW continuity, in a rather broad strokes take on canon.

“Brawl lost his favorite gun.”

Swindle looked up from his data pad, its screen rife with all manner of information on illicit deals, and raised a brow. There was only one thing he could say in reply.

“And you’re telling me… why?”

Onslaught loomed over Swindle, his arms crossed. “Hm, why _am_ I telling you?” he said, dryly. “You, Swindle. The one of us who traffics in arms. The one of us who was arrested by the ‘duly appointed enforcer of the Tyrest accord’ multiple times. It’s a mystery, really, why _I_ am telling this to _you_.”

Swindle sighed, and sat up on the bench he had previously been slouching across. “Okay, I get it,” he said. “Just, start at the beginning. Tell me what happened to our violent friend’s firearm.”

Onslaught shrugged. “We’re on Hedonia,” he said. “What the scrap do you think happened to it? It got stolen.”

The smaller Combaticon smirked up at his leader. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Gee, the poor guy must be absolutely heartbroken?”

Onslaught didn’t reply. Instead, he simply stepped aside and motioned to the other side of the room. Brawl was slumped in a corner, looking forlorn, which — considering his face was mostly covered by a helmet and a plate — was quite an accomplishment.

“Oh wow, he really is heartbroken,” Swindle said, with no small amount of surprise. “Still, I’m not sure why I should care, Onslaught.”

“You should care,” Onslaught said, “because I don’t want this unit to be a man down all because our biggest baby lost his pacifier. I don’t care if we’re on Hedonia or Cybertron or in the middle of _Garrus-slagging-9!_ Get your skidplate up and help me find a replacement.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Swindle sneered, “but we’re not going alone. I know where we can get a replacement for his old gun’s exact make and model — but we’re going to have to head into Autobot territory.”

Onslaught twitched. “The scrap do you mean by that?” he said. “You’re telling me we can’t find Brawl’s damn cannon anywhere that isn’t in Autobot space?! This is Hedonia! It’s already the arms trafficking capital of known space! Hell, we might even find who that thief sold it to.”

Swindle leaned forward, poking Onslaught in the chest. “He’s been using it since before Thunderwing turned Cybertron into a walking rad zone, and as for finding it _here_ , I can tell you that thief will have wanted to get something that valuable as far away from its former owner as possible. They don’t make that particular model weapon anymore, and the only types who still deal that kind of ordinance are the ones who are also in charge of reclaiming and destroying it.”

Onslaught raised a brow. “Wait, it sounds like you’re talking about-”

“-Yep,” Swindle said, stepping back and smirking with both hands on his hips. “We’ve gotta deal with _Gunrunner_.”

 

* * *

 

Five cycles later, the Combaticons and their ship had departed Hedonia, and were headed straight towards Autobot space. Brawl was slumped over in his seat, while Vortex was practically twitching with excitement.

“I can’t believe it!” he all but squealed. “This is is the greatest vacation gift you all could have given me. We were stuck on boring old Hedonia, but now we’ll probably get attacked by Autobot border patrol! I’ll get to dish out some _pain!_ ”

Blast Off, who sat in front of him, frowned. “I can’t say I’m eager for that,” he said, before resting a lingering, longing look upon Onslaught, who sat in the pilot seat. “I was looking forward to relaxing and spending time with On — I mean, all of you.”

Vortex made a gagging motion, despite not having a mouth, which was impressive in a way.

“Yes, well, it’s Brawl and Swindle’s fault we have to cut it short,” Onslaught growled. “R&R is necessary to keep a soldier in the best state possible. Endless combat and drills lead to mental fatigue and stress.”

Blast Off smiled. “Wow, boss, that’s actually a very enlightened view,” he said.

“Yes, well,” Onslaught replied, puffing up a bit and sitting up just a bit straighter, “just because I’m a hardass doesn’t mean I want us to be so broken we _lose_ all the time.”

“What does it matter?” said Brawl, still slumped over in his seat, arms dangling down as he gazed endlessly at the cockpit ceiling. “We’re all just food for rust in the end — meaningless metal flakes drifting aimlessly through the eternal void. Spent cartridges in the ammo belt of life.”

An awkward silence fell over the cockpit. Even Vortex tilted his head in confusion, before letting out a mystified, _“What?”_

“I miss my gun,” Brawl whined, dumbly.

“I don’t care what anyone says,” said Swindle, who sat opposite Onslaught and had kicked his feet up on the control panel. He was clearly content to ignore Brawl’s sudden, inexplicable brush with philosophy. “Any chance where I can earn some profit is worthwhile to me. I’ve been meaning to visit Gunrunner for a while now.”

Blast Off found himself frowning again. “I don’t know anything about this Autobot,” he said. “You two apparently do… can you tell us anything?”

“He’s in charge of reclaiming and destroying certain Cybertronian ordinance,” Onslaught explained, “but he had a bad experience a while back. Made him bitter. Started dealing his reclamations out to the highest bidder. He does this right under Prime’s nose, too — he even has a post on the Autobot command hub.”

Blast Off’s eyes widened. “The Command hub?! We’re not going there, are we?!”

“Ohhh, are we?” Vortex cried giddily. “Are we? Are we, are we, are we?!”

“What? By the Primacron, no!” Onslaught cried. “We’re not that stupid. Give me some more credit than that, Blast Off.”

Blast Off turned his head away, crossing his arms and feeling embarrassed..

“Gunrunner actually deals out of a derelict Galactic Council station,” Swindle explained. “He towed it into Autobot controlled space, so it doesn’t appear on any star charts. You have to be connected to have any idea of its coordinates.”

“And you’re connected,” Blast Off said, dryly.

“Sure am,” Swindle said, with a grin.

Onslaught glared at him. “Don’t get cocky,” he said. “There’s a 99.9% chance that this gonna turn into a fight for our lives. We need to be prepared”

Blast Off looked nervous. “‘99.9 %’?! Why so high?!”

“Remember when I said Gunrunner had ‘a bad experience’ before he became an arms dealer?”

“Yeah…?”

Onslaught grumbled. “That bad experience? Was _me_.”

 

* * *

 

Twelve cycles later, the Combaticons had docked their ship at Gunrunner’s “base”, which, sure enough, was a Terok-class Galactic Council station. All of its life support systems were shut off, but luckily enough for them, Cybertronians didn’t require the same conditions as other lifeforms.

“Aw, no welcoming party?” Vortex remarked, as they stepped out of their ship. “That’s so rude!”

Blast Off frowned. “This is a trap,” he observed.

“Oh come on,” Swindle said, striding forward confidently. “It’s not a trap. I’ve done business with Gunrunner plenty of times… there’s no reason he can’t let bygones be bygones!”

Just then, a panel in the wall opened up, revealing a laser cannon, which promptly fired a cutting beam straight at Swindle. The tan-colored Combaticon’s eyes widened, and he just narrowly dodged to the side, allowing the laser to hit the wall behind him.

“Okay, so maybe this is a trap.”

“ _So, you came,”_ said a voice over the station’s intercom system. _“Finally, all my years and years of planning have brought you back here to me, Onslaught!”_

Onslaught narrowed his optics behind his visor. “Gunrunner,” he said, coldly. “You’re behind all of this!”

“ _That’s right, you monster. Everything I’ve done, doing business with Swindle, manipulating everything just so that I’m the only one who can get what you want, getting someone to steal that gearhead of yours’ outdated old blaster… it was all according to plan! And now you’ve practically gift wrapped yourselves for me!”_

“You were the one who had Brawl’s gun stolen?!” Onslaught snapped. “I’ll tear out your laser core for this!”

Brawl twitched. “He… took my gun…?”

“ _Not before I take yours, Onslaught!”_

Vortex couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh man,” he said. “This guy sounds like he has a total crush on you, Onslaught!”

Blast Off grit his teeth. “That’s not what this is about!” he barked at the helicopter.

Brawl clenched his hands into fists. “He took my gun…?”

“ _You idiots!”_ Gunrunner’s voice roared. _“This is about justice! You killed all of my men, Onslaught! They never even had a chance, and now I’m going to give your team the same courtesy!”_

Brawl’s expression turned into an angry glare. “He took my gun?” he growled.

“ _I’ll make you watch, one-by-one, as they’re stripped for parts and_ sold _! Then, when you’re at the abyss of despair, I won’t make the same mistake you did by leaving you_ alive!”

“You’re making a mistake right now,” Onslaught replied, putting his hands on his hips. To his teammates’ shock, he seemed to be standing at ease. “Several, in fact. The first was doing your big rant _before_ you had us all incapacitated.”

“ _What?! What difference could that possibly make?!”_

“It makes all the difference,” Onslaught replied, “because it leads us to mistake number two: you confessed everything you did in front of _Brawl_.”

“ _What?!”_

At this point, Brawl was seething. If he were a tad more primitive, his chassis would be heated red, and steam would be pouring out of his audio receptors. As it stood now, he was about ready to explode.

“You… took… my… **gun!”** he exploded.

The green tank-bot charged forward, firing wildly with the blasters on his chest, taking out the weaponry that sprang from the walls to repel him. Several of them were destroyed, while the fire of several others glanced off his thick armor instead. His fury unrestrained, Brawl crashed through a wall, and then another, as he tore through bulkheads with nothing more than his hands.

Three of his teammates stared at the sight, shocked, before Onslaught lunged forward and slapped Blast Off and Swindle in the back of the head. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s follow him!”

 

* * *

 

Gunrunner, a orange and black mech with blasters on both his shoulders and a large set of wings and cannons on his back, grit his teeth. He was watching that damned green Combaticon tear his way through all of the offenses he’d prepared like they were nothing. Not even his highest-power cannons seemed to slow him down, even as they tore large chunks from his armor.

How had this all gone so wrong?! He’d planned this perfectly! He’d done his research! Everything he’d gathered suggested this “Brawl” would be completely broken by the loss of his favorite firearm. But to overreact like this, over a weapon? Where was this kind of power coming from?

Suddenly, the footage in front of him cut out, leaving only static. “Scrap!” he cried out to no one in particular. “I’ve lost visual!”

The loss of eyes on the situation heralded even more trouble, as the bulkhead to the left of him suddenly exploded. The force of the blast blew Gunrunner off his feet, as Brawl emerged through the wreckage, smoke trailing off his body and his hands holding a heavy-class energy cannon he must have torn out of the walls.

“ _ **Where’s my gun?!”**_   Brawl roared.

Gunrunner scrambled backwards. “I-I told the thief who took it do whatever he wanted with it!” he pleaded. This only served to make the Combaticon even angrier, so Gunrunner quickly added: “I have more of them, though! They’re in the storeroom, behind that door!”

Gunrunner pointed, and Brawl followed his gaze. The Combaticon saw the door, and then turned back towards the Autobot, shooting him a glare that told him there’d be consequences if this turned out to be a lie. Then he stomped forward, shoulder-checked the door, and simply walked through the now open doorway.

Gunrunner breathed a sigh of relief, and began to pick himself up… when the other Combaticons walked through the hole in the wall Brawl had made.

“Onslaught,” Gunrunner hissed.

“Gunrunner,” Onslaught replied, crossing his arms. “You’re alone? You really didn’t think this through, did you?”

Gunrunner snarled. “As if I’d give you the opportunity to use more of my comrades against me,” he seethed. “I’m not a monster like you!”

“Oh, spare us!” Onslaught replied, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re an arms dealer! You’ve violated the Tyrest Accord several times over! I’m pretty sure there’s at least one species on the verge of extinction, just for that! You don’t have any room to lecture me about how much better you are just because _I made you watch_ as I had your entire squad killed, one-by-one! As much as you Autobots like to preach about morality, you’ve already sunk to my level _several times over!”_

Gunrunner’s optics widened, and he felt his spark sink at the Decepticon’s words. Unable to formulate a proper response, he activated a mechanism hidden in his arm, and vanished, suddenly, in a pillar of energy.

“Aw man, he’s gone!” Vortex cried, disappointed. “And I didn’t even get to do anything!”

Blast Off, however, looked relieved. “I can’t believe we went through all of this for the sake of a blaster,” he said. “But… I guess we made out of it with minimal trouble, in the end.”

“Honestly, it was of little consequence at all,” Onslaught said. “Once Swindle talked about who we’d have to deal with, I started to think it would turn out like this.”

Blast Off smiled at him fondly. “That’s why you’re our leader.”

Onslaught simply shrugged, which caused Blast Off’s shoulders to sag. The Combaticon leader strode forward, entering the storeroom, where Brawl was already happily loading himself up with numerous copies of his favorite firearm. Swindle even let out a squeal, running forward to get a look at the merchandise he now had access to.

“I guess it was worth it, if we have access to all this stuff,” Blast Off offered. “Plus, a space station in Autobot space has got to be good for the war effort.”

Onslaught nodded. “More than that — remember what I said about a team’s mental state being important?” he said. If Onslaught had a mouth, he would be smiling right now at the sight of two members of his team so happy. “I think we accomplished that far better here than we ever would have on Hedonia.”

Blast Off blinked, and then smiled himself. “I think you’re right about that.”

Over in the corner, Vortex stomped his foot.

“But _I_ still didn’t get to do anything!”


End file.
